Behind Baker St
by RollyMo
Summary: Drabbles surrounding Tori Luck, a continuation of my previous story The original Baker St irregular. Focusing on OC, so probably shouldnt read if its not your thing.
1. Cold

"Quick" She heard Sherlock call from in front of her as they ran full force in the vague direction of the docks.

"Quicker" John's voice yelled, franticly grabbing her wrist and pulling her into a dark side street.

"Okay" the detective said from somewhere in the shadows, if her brain had been working at normal speed she would have been able to say exactly where, but after being knocked out she was suffering from a concussion which played with her senses.

"That warehouse is going to explode in less time than it takes for us to get far enough away" he closed his eyes and began planning in his head.

John and her waited patiently, if he could come up with a plan he'd need time to think.

"Okay I've got it" he grabbed both their arms and began frog marching them towards the wooden steps leading down to the water front. "We swim"

"What!" both of them yelled.

"What kind of insane idea is that?" John's yell changed into a whisper as they heard an old drunk stumble past.

"Well we can go back the way we came and be killed by trained assassins" Sherlock started to climb over the railings. "Would that be a better idea?"

"Sherlock it's March! The water's freezing!" Tori nodded and pulled her coat closer around her.

"I think a cold beats death, doesn't it?" Sherlock raised an eye brow at John.

"Cold, try Hypothermia" John muttered but began climbing down the railing anyway.

"Tori?"

The younger girl still hadn't moved from where she was standing.

John looked up at her in concern.

"She can't swim" Sherlock called, climbing back up to her and holding out his hand.

"Excellent deduction, no I can't, never learnt"

"Come on, it's not that hard"

"Easy for you to say" she mumbled, taking his hand and they both began climbing down.

Tori swung her feet franticly trying to find a rung to stand on but they just dangled in thin air. Stretching a little she her feet soaked through.

The water was so cold it seemed to have frozen her legs and the chill was making her way up to her chest. Letting go of the railings she dropped into the water.

"Ahhhh!" she screamed as the dirty sea water engulfed her.

She felt herself being pulled down by the water, closer to the dark abyss below.

Sherlock watched in horror as Tori's small frame didn't appear at the surface.

"John go on ahead, find Lestrade" he yelled swimming closer to where the girl had disappeared.

Pushing his head under the water, he looked around for Tori.

Diving deeper he saw the white hand poke out of a black oil cloud.

Kicking his legs he propelled himself further to the arm. As he came closer he reached out, thankfully he felt a pulse beating to a steady rhythm.

He pulled on her arm and began swimming upwards.

He broke the surface of the water and let out a gasp of fresh air, well as fresh as London air can get. Turning round he saw Tori gasping for air.

"You okay?" he called moving closer to support her weight.

She tried to speak but ended up coughing and spluttering the sea water. After a few seconds she stopped and nodded her head weakly.

"Sherlock!" They snapped their heads up to see John looking down from the top of a sailing boat. When he saw that they'd spotted him, he threw down a rope ladder till it reached just before the water.

"Thanks" Tori wheezed as Sherlock pulled her towards the boat.

Two hours after they climb out of the water, called Lestrade and listen to Sherlock explain the entire four day case in less than thirty seconds, John and Tori were sitting on the steps of the station, covered in shock blankets and spare coats.

They'd changed out of their wet clothes and into some off the lost items the officers kept just in case.

"What a nice picture you both make" she looked up to see Sherlock standing above them still wearing his soaking clothes.

"You must be frozen" John scolded him, getting up and wrapping one of his blankets around him.

"I've talked to Lest- John get off!" he shrugged the Doctor away and resumed talking. "I've talked to Lestrade and the warehouse is well and truly gone, if we go to...Tori?"

Sherlock bent down to see her fast asleep. He watched as John checked her pulse and breathing before straighting up. "Poor girl's passed out, get her back to the flat and keep her warm"

"Wait, you're not coming with us?" he asked as john pulled up the girl and pushed her gently in his direction.

"No, I'm meeting Mary's parents, remember? You'll just have to deal with her on your own" He wrapped the blankets tighter around Tori and then set of towards Mary who'd been waiting for a few minutes.

Sherlock signalled for a cab and hauled her inside shooting the Taxi driver a smile. "My daughter had a few to many drinks" the guy nodded and started the car.

Tori woke several hours later, just as dawn was breaking. Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat and she couldn't move her arms, for a second she thought she was still unconscious. It ended when Sherlock untied her from the mass of coats and blankets that seemed to have doubled since last night.

"John said to keep you warm" he shrugged as he dumped the clothes on the floor next to her.

"Sherlock! I'm going to have to clear that up" she wined bending down to pick them up. Before she could reach them though a searing pain shot through her head and she fell back into the couch.

"Did I hit my head last night?" she asked rubbing a lump that had appeared just above her left eyebrow.

"Yes, just before you were knocked out" he lied.

After carrying her back to the flat, he left her at the top of the stairs. It was only for a minute to get Mrs Hudson but when he came back, she was collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. But best not to let her know it was his fault. No point in a second trip to A&E this week.

_A.N_

_I'm back! _

_It hasn't really been long but I have news!_

_I'm trying to write the second Original Baker St Irregular! _

_It'll be set a few months after the first ended and focussing more on a mystery than her. I've planned it out a little but I still need to write it all down. _

_I do have a lot of school work to focus on, GCSE mocks are coming up, so it may not get finished for a while. _

_Well fingers crossed!_

_Love Rosie_


	2. Charlie

"Hey baby" she cooed into the bundle of white cotton in her arms. Moving the blanket so she could see her son's face.

The sweat on her face had dried, leaving a pinkish glow on her usually white skin.

Her whole body ached and cried out for rest but she was running on the second wind from lack of sleep, and several drugs that she was 95% sure some were not legal in Europe. Probably Mycroft's doing.

Because of her tiny frame, too small hips, she'd been through nearly a day of labour.

Bursts of agonising pain every three minutes, like clockwork.

It had been almost too much for her to handle. Everyone but Ryan had stayed as far away from her as possible.

"Hello" she looked up to see John and Sherlock poking their heads round the door. Both wearing sympathetic, if a little wary, expressions.

"Come in" she smiled weakly, awkwardly sitting up in the hospital bed, lifting up her arms so as not to wake the infant.

"How are you?" John whispered, creeping delicately over to the bedside.

"Good" she got up and placed the child in the hospital crib next to her.

"And how's..." the doctor gestured to the sleeping baby.

"Charlie. It's the name of Ryan's Granddad" she walked over to where Sherlock was standing, eyes scanning the room, not focusing on anything in particular. She knew he hated hospitals, the reminder of illness, she'd imagined he would always meet his end with a bang, not fizzle out in the hygienic beds, surrounded by nurses and morbid relatives.

"You can hold him if you want" He stared at her, mouth hanging open.

Chuckling, she pulled him closer to Charlie. "What? Has the great Sherlock Holmes finally found something he fails?"

"No, and you can't trick me into doing what you want, like you used to" He scowled, loosening the scarf around his neck.

"So you admit I used to win" It was amusing to see how easily she got under his skin. "Now, you can't say no to a women who just gave birth. It's not hard, just support his head and back"

John smirked as his friend, the straight faced detective, picked the tiny baby up and cradled it in his arms. No one other than Tori could have him wrapped round her little finger in such a way.

"So where's Ryan?" He asked sitting in one of the arm chairs next to the bed.

"Calling his mum" she smiled, remembering something. "You should have seen his face when he saw Charlie, went the same colour as him over there" she jerked her thumb in Sherlock's direction.

Sherlock stared down at the tiny baby in his arms. Its face was a strange red and all blotchy. A bit like a tomato. His eyes were drawn to its tiny right hand that had broken free of the blanket. Without thinking he placed it back.

"Its face is an...Odd colour, don't you think"

"Sherlock, it's called pink. It's the standard colour for most new born's" she slapped his arm in mock annoyance.

"John, you're the doctor. Tell him!"

"I'm not getting into this" he raised his hands defensively.

The baby started to wake, struggling in Sherlock's arms. Tori couldn't help but laugh at the startled look on the man's face. "Here, give him to me". He happily obliged and placed the squalling infant in her arms.

"Now Charlie" she whispered soothingly as she sat down in the armchair next to John.

"That man who was just holding you. Do you remember him?" the baby gurgled in response. "Yes. Well that is your Uncle Sherlock and the very nice man sitting next to us. Well, that's your Uncle John, and they are very special to me. And they're going to be very special to you too" she rocked the infant softly, backwards and forwards in slow succession.

"It's not going to understand you" Sherlock was looking on in interest. "It's brain still isn't properly formed"

"Stop calling him 'it'. And he can understand everything. He's clever" she smiled lovingly her child, her happiness not dampened by mock annoyance.

"Well Sherlock" John broke the little silence that had filled the room. "Our little girl's all grown up" he wiped away an imaginary tear and chuckled lightly.

"She grew up a long time ago" Sherlock whispered to himself, watching as the baby reached out his hand for a strand of Tori's hair that had fallen out of place.

_A.N_

_Aww. I like this one. It's very fluffy and sweet. _

_I wanted to write Tori as a mother since I thought of her, she seems like the type to fit it expectantly. I was slightly disappointed I couldn't come up with a better reaction for Sherlock. Stupid me._

_Love Rosie_


	3. Chapter 3

Tori stumbled out of the cab, after handing over her fare, and toward the crime scene.

The usual Scotland Yard team were scattered around the empty car park all looking as tired and as unhappy to be here as her.

The cold early February air hit her with force and she pulled her coat closer.

"Freaks by the exit" Sally Donavon nodded at her. Over the years they had come to...well...the simplest answer was an agreement. They both tried to be more civil, at least to their faces any way.

So far it worked about...30% of the time.

"Tori" she began to make her way over to where Sherlock, Lestrade and John were standing around a cardboard box.

"Hey" Nodding to the three men surrounding her, stopping next to John.

"Look inside the box" Sherlock instructed his eyes boring into the cardboard.

"Are you serious?" she stared up at him. "I had to come all the way to Redding, nearly an hour in the cab. To go through a box?"

He remained stone faced and looked back at the cardboard again.

"Fine!" she stomped forward. "What's in there that's got you so fright-"

Her question was cut short by a high-pitched scream emitting from the box.

"Bloody hell!" clamping her hand over her ears, she lunged forward, pulling back the cardboard flaps. Inside a dark, curly haired baby, about six months old, screeching so loudly she swore it may burst. It's face turning tomato red.

Quick as she could, Tori scooped out the baby and held it in her arms. Slowly the squealing infant quietened as she bounced it up and down.

"Is this it?" John and Lestrade stared at her in a mixture of both shock and horror.

"I found it a few hours ago and needed to get it out so I could search the box" Sherlock explained, pulling on a pair of latex gloves he began rifling through the baby's temporary home.

"So you couldn't do it yourself?" she whispered, rocking the baby up and down to keep it quiet. Thankfully it merely whimpered and went back to sleep.

"It cried every time I went near it" He shrugged, turning back to his deductions.

Tori believed his straight away, no one could call Sherlock a 'Family Man'

"Box is only a few weeks old, so the baby wasn't born in it. Blanket's old though, late 70's. Worn, second hand but washed with an expensive brand. Loved. So hand me down, not charity shop"

"Didn't think to ask someone else to?" she shook her head incredulously

"I asked Lestrade and John but they wouldn't do it"

"We thought it was a bomb" the D.I. explained. "The way he was avoiding it"

Sherlock looked up to grimace at the older man before returning his gaze to the box. Tori rolled her eyes, still rocking back and forth.

"I'm calling social services" She announced, struggling to keep a hold of the baby and reach for her phone.

"Here let me" John's gift of speak now returning to him, he began to pat down his jacket for his own mobile.

"Don't bother" Lestrade gestured to where the police cars were waiting "We have to keep it in the station for the time being"

"Well try and get it to a nice home. Somewhere like Byroad or Greenslade. So long as it's not Sunbury. That's where they put me, most depressing place you've ever seen. From what I've heard it hasn't changed much"

The baby began to squeal again so she continued the routine of bouncing it up and down.

"That's if the parents don't reclaim it" John offered to take the squealing infant from her but she shook her head sweetly.

"That's what they said about my family" she didn't mean to be rude but the army doctor still looked away bashful.

"Sorry" he muttered, trying to find a place to leave his hands.

"As much as I hate to break up this lovely discussion" Sherlock shot up, stripping off his gloves as he did so. "I need to look at the body again" He began to make his way to the car park entrance.

"So you're going to leave Victoria with a baby who's a possible connection to the Russian mafia?" Lestrade refused to call her Tori no matter how much she, or anyone else asked him to.

"She'll be fine. She grew up in a care home, remember? Anyway..." he stopped for a second to look at her. "It'll give her good practice"

His gaze dropped to her stomach for a second before he abruptly turned his back to her.

Her cheeks flushed red and her gaze narrowed in on his receding back

"How could you think I wouldn't notice?"

John stared down at the young girl, then at her stomach, then back to her flushed face. He didn't fail to miss the way her hands clenched round the baby a little too tight.

_A.N_

_Oh gosh! She's with child!_

_But the chapter about her giving birth may have given it away._

_I thought it would be an interesting way to reveal her baby to everyone._

_Love Rosie_


	4. Snow

"The body is three weeks old, new to the country. New winter coat, with thin clothes underneath. Recently quit smoking, maybe six to-oof!" Sherlock's deduction was cut short as a cloud of white, wet, cold smacked him in the cheek.

"Ha!" the on looking, and very amused, police officers turned round to look for the snowball's previous owner.

"Six-five John!" a flushed Tori called, sprinting out from behind a snow covered bush. The purple winter coat Mrs Hudson had lent her, insisting she couldn't go out in this weather in her leather jacket, was sprinkled with delicate tiny white snowflakes. Along with some rather less lady like, clumps of melting ice where John had attempted to score points.

"Looks like they're having fun" Lestrade remarked, pulling his coat tighter as the wind sent a few more flakes down.

"Ridiculous" Sherlock muttered, wiping off the remaining droplets of water from his now heated cheek.

John appeared from behind a tree, pelting a few snow balls at the younger girl. It was an intense game, his military training against her speed and sheer luck.

The consulting detective sighed and turned back to the frozen corpse, grumbling to himself. Intending on continuing with his inspection he looked up for Lestrade but was surprised to find the D.I.'s attention elsewhere. Mainly focused on the battle in front of them, as were a lot, if not most of the other officers.

"Hey Sherlock!" he heard Tori call, her voice muffled by the thick grey scarf wound tightly round her neck. "Come help me obliterate John!" There was a very un-Tori-like squeal as John threw all his weight against the trunk of a silver birch tree before hurrying to the cover of the park bench. Effectively sending a blanket of snow over her.

Lestrade let out an appreciative grunt as she shook the melting droplets from her hair.

"It's quite strange isn't it?" Inspector Dimmock said, inwardly cursing at Sherlock for taking a liking to him. He should be at home, making a snowman with his kids, not standing over a corpse while the army doctor and the little girl had all the fun.

"Hmm?" the consulting Detective asked, lifting the body's hand to check the finger nails.

"Her. Tori. Being all, you know, happy and, young"

"She is usually happy" Sherlock replied tartly. "And always young, she's eighteen".

"You know what I mean, usually she's all morbid and acts older than she is, and well, now she's making a snowman" he pointed to where Tori was rolling up a pile of snow with a group of younger kids.

It was true, his younger flat mate was grinning, her pale skin glowing and a rosy blush adorning her cheeks. Her mood practically throwing it's self at them.

John approached the group of officers, the snow melted from his clothes and face flushed bright red.

"Having fun?" Sherlock spat out, standing up and towering over the doctor.

"Yeah, Tori's got a cracking shot you know?" He chuckled, wiping a few droplets of melted water from his cheeks.

"Well I'm finished here" he pulled off the latex gloves, replacing them with his leather ones. "Ready to leave?"

"Well I am" the doctor stopped to take a breath. "But I think Tori wants to stay a little longer"

"Fine leave her" He turned, coat swishing round his ankles, getting stuck in the snow. John sighed, waved a good bye to Dimmock and followed tiredly.

"Mycroft!"

He turned from where he was window shopping, some jewellery for Mummy, to spot a small female form, surrounded by children, waving happily at him.

"Tori. Hello" He made to step forward, but she and her young entourage were already in front of him.

"Having fun?" he smiled at her before crouching down to greet the children.

"Yep" A dark curly haired girl, in a rather garish pink coat, replied, holding onto Tori's arm.

"We were out in the park and now Tori's taking us for hot chocolate" A freckly ginger boy grinned, his eyes sparkling with the prospect of such a treat.

"Fun day was it?" he asked again this time standing up, directing his attention at Tori.

"I forget how lovely snow is" she remarked, looking up as, if by magic, flakes started falling again.

"The way a crow. Shook down on me. The dust of snow. From a hemlock tree" Mycroft recited, looking up as a flake settled on his nose. "Robert Frost"

"So where's..."

"Juliet. Visiting friends out of town"

"She's not, is she"

He chuckled, this time the smile not reaching his eyes.

"No"

They stare for a moment, she looking for something to say, he trying to keep the information he knew from her.

"Well you better be off, those coffee shop's look positively packed to the brim" He gave her a quick wave as she turned to lead her pack toward the cafe's entrance.

Watching her for a moment, he pulled out his phone and doubled security on the youngest resident of 221b Baker St.

_A.N_

_Ooh it's chilly out! I can almost smell the snow, plus it gives me a chance to wear boots to school and miss freezing my toes off.__  
>I have to tell you about the lovely weather yesterday. It was really cold, bit drizzly and misty, but I went for a walk down to the pier and let me tell you, there is nothing nicer than going for a quiet walk on the beach. Anyway, hope you're all having a lovely winter.<em>

_Love Rosie_


	5. Ryan

"Hi"

Tori turned from where she was about open the back exit to the restaurant to smiled at the twenty something guy in front of her.

"Hey" she nodded, taking in the soft sandy blonde hair and tall muscled build.

"I'm Ryan" he seemed mesmerised by something, but was seemed to only be looking in her eyes.

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. She was used fairly used to attention from guys, she was pretty, not stunning, but defiantly pretty. She'd had relationships before, though they petered out quickly. Ryan was still watching her inquisitively, focusing in on her eyes in particular. It wasn't as though she was even looking her best today. Sherlock had tampered with her alarm clock and now it went off at random times in the night, resulting in her getting even less sleep than usual. Her eyes were surrounded by dark purple rings and her skin even more pale and gaunt. She was what John called 'having a Sherlock'.

"I'm Tori" she extended her hand casually.

Breaking from his trance he noticed what she was doing and copied. "Yeah...I'm Ryan"

"You've said" He blinked, realising the mistake.

"Sorry. I'm new here" he looked around the tiny locker room.

"The new waiter, Boss's nephew" she said subconsciously.

"Huh? Yeah" he looked at her with something between curiosity and amusement. "How did you know?"

She wanted to explain. His hair, hadn't been cut in a while but brushed and combed. He took care in his appearance but can't afford to be as well kept as he'd like. Unemployed for about two or three months. So how's he got a job in a restaurant, same bone structure and colouring as Boss. Not enough similarities to be father, too much of an age gap to be cousins. He was wearing the restaurant's shirt and browsers but no tie, so Angelo hadn't given him one. First day, working at Uncle's restaurant.

She would have said all that, but she remembered how isolated Sherlock was with people when he deduced everything about them. You could see them physically backing away from him.

So instead she smiled weakly and said "Angelo told me"

"Course" He nodded and opened the door for her. "Sounds like him.

"Hi John" the doctor turned to see Tori float past him to her room. "Hi Sherlock"

Both men stared as the girl who could out run both of them and tackle a man twice her size, humming, as she danced to her room.

"What's with her?" He asked from his arm chair looking over to Sherlock.

"Dilated pupils, smiling. She's in love" the detective sighed turning his head back to the book.

"What?"

"Not what John, the question is who" He got up and made his way to Tori's room behind the kitchen.

Tori, herself, was reading an old Agatha Christie book upside down on her bed when she heard a knock.

"Come in" she called, sitting up, silently cursing that horrible feeling when the blood rushes to your head.

"You look well" Sherlock commented moving to sit in the chair he used when he was in there.

"No I don't" She replied. It wasn't modesty, her makeup had been wiped off and now her eyes looked even darker.

"Sherlock says you've met someone" John leant on the door frame.

"Sorry?" her nose wrinkled up in confusion.

"Actually" Sherlock sat up, glancing over to John. "I said she was in love"

"I'm not"

"Don't lie Tori, it really doesn't suit you. Now, tell us who he is"

"Who?" she asked, faining innocence.

"Stupidity won't work either, the man you met this morning"

He steepeled his fingers under his chin, similar to when he had discovered a new clue in a case.

"Oh!" she laughed, it was nice to see her laugh, John thought. Made her seem more human. "You mean Ryan. The new guy, I'm not in love with him"

"You are" the detective told her in a tone that shouldn't be questioned.

Apparently no one had thought to inform Tori this, "Sherlock, I think you should spend a little more time examining actual people"

He sighed, got up and left her bedroom mumbling something about research.

"You do know you've probably made it worse right?" John asked

Tori nodded solemnly, "Oh yes"

"Lestrade, shoot him!" She yelled, pulling the detective into the D.I's office.

"Sorry?" he asked looking up at them and mentally calculating the amount of paperwork he'd have to do.

"Or arrest him, don't care" she pushed Sherlock forward, nearly sending him crashing through the desk.

Standing up, the detective straightened his suit and shot her a glare. "I was only doing what you asked me"

"I did not ask you to stay all day in the restaurant, watching Ryan the whole time" She collapsed in the chair, coincidently situated next to her. "So, will you arrest him?" She turned to Lestrade, large eyes boring into his.

"Um...sorry but...as much as I'd like to, technically he's done nothing wrong" the D.I was having a hard time wondering if she was joking or not.

"Well can't we just handcuff him to a lamppost for a bit?"

"Apart from me losing a pair of handcuffs, what do you think that will achieve?" He smiled apologetically at her.

Tori pouted and glared at Sherlock.

"So why'd he do it this time?" he asked, knowing full well neither would leave if he didn't.

"I wanted to prove they were in love" Sherlock shrugged matter of factly.

She growled and tightened her hands into fists.

"And you didn't think that was a little un wise?" Lestrade's mind was called back to when Tori had stabbed a fork into Anderson's hand in a fit of anger.

"I was right" Sherlock said, ignoring the D.I's question. "You are in love with him" he smiled. "And he loves you"

Well that turned out to be the last straw. Tori leapt out of the chair at Sherlock and now they were both sitting in A&E listening to John yell at both of them.

"I leave you for a day!"

Tori stared at the moon shaped bruise on her leg, just below the knee. It was impressive, the size of her fist. How she got it was slightly less. After Lestrade had pulled her off Sherlock, she'd tripped on his stupid scarf and fell awkwardly on the chair.

Sherlock had come of worse though, a black eye and a slightly dislocated shoulder.

Although he didn't seem to be that bothered, a smug smile on his lips.

"Are you two even listening?" John asked, slapping his hand to his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Promise not to do it again" she rolled her eyes.

"I'm holding you to that" he turned to look at Sherlock. "And Sherlock"

"And what?"

"Promise not to spend the day 'studding' Tori and her friends"

Sherlock sighed and nodded, giving her a smile which she returned. "There every one's happy"

"Two hours in hospital, yep couldn't be happier"

_A.N_

_I could imagine Sherlock being overprotective like that, rude and unusual in his methods.  
>next time Tori and Sherlock go on holiday!<em>

_Love Rosie_


	6. Denmark

"Does it have to be this cold?" Tori asked stamping her feet to warm herself up.

"I said to bring warm clothes" Sherlock pointed out as he steered her towards the airport exit.

"Yeah and I thought a coat and scarf would be enough" she shivered as the icy cold hit her.

It seemed the whole of Denmark was covered in a blanket of snow. It was defiantly a mistake to leave her behind warm winter boots behind in favour of her comfier trainers. "Couldn't you have at least told me to wear jeans?"

Sherlock smiled slightly as she rubbed her thin legging covered legs. "You can always stay at the airport if you want

"No thanks" She stuck out her hand to try and get a taxi. "If anything it's somehow colder inside than out here"

"Well" Unsurprisingly when Sherlock held up his hand a car appeared straight away. "It'll take a good few hours in the snow"

It was a tempting offer to stay in the airport instead of trudging through the freezing cold field to a witness who wouldn't leave his house. But that would mean giving in to him and Tori was nothing if not stubborn.

"No I'll come with" She climbed into the car, rubbing her hands together.

"Sherlock!" she called through the frosted window. "Where are you?"

The witness had been slightly less than cooperative and refused to open the door. The detective had decided to break into one of the upper windows. What he hadn't counted on was the witness being a little angry and trying to smash his head in with a spade.

"Next window along" She heard the raspy voice of her friend a few feet along.

Gripping the wall behind her she moved along, trying not to look down. Carefully tiptoeing her way on the thankfully sturdy drain pipe, she reached out a hand and felt the cold window beneath her gloved hands.

"I'm here" She called in a pathetically small voice beneath the wind.

"Stand back" Sherlock called, and somehow she moved away from the window.

It was a good idea too as something smashed through the glass sending shards into the wall which she clung onto.

"You all right?" He asked getting rid of the spare glass still left in the window.

She nodded, until realising he couldn't see her and called out. "Yep...I think"

He climbed out onto the window ledge and dropped down onto the drain pipe. She let out a sigh of relief...until they felt the pipe dip with a groan.

"Quick!" Sherlock grabbed her by the arm and jumped.

With a thud they landed in the snow, the cold seeping through their layers of clothes.

"Well" She breathed, groaning as she got up. "It was an interesting way to go down"

"Mr Holmes, Miss Luck, can we help you?" the air elderly air hostess Carolyn asked.

"Yes we were wondering if we could stay on the plane for the next few hours" Sherlock asked, well it was more of a statement "Of course, We will pay extra for your generous hospitality"

Carolyn pretended to think for a moment before allowing them entry to the steps leading to the small plane.  
>Once they got inside, they shed their wet clothes, including Tori's soaked trainers, and fell into the chairs. "Can I get you anything miss?"<p>

"I know it sounds odd but do you have any spare shoes?"

_A.N_

_DENMARK! I have to say I know nothing about this country, the most research I did was with a map of Europe, closing my eyes and picking a country near the north. Sorry if everything I've written about it is utter rubbish._

_Love Rosie_


	7. Jock

"What'd you think?" John asked arms out stretched like a magician presenting the saw he planned to cut the woman in half with.

"It's a box" Tori replied, looking down at the cardboard rectangle in front of her.

"Astute observation" Sherlock stated in his usual mono tone demeanour. "Maybe looking inside would help further your investigation

She rolled her eyes and bent down to open the top of the box curiously. "Can you tell me what it is?"

"No. You're meant to _guess_" Sherlock spoke the last word as though it was forced down his throat.

"Umm.." she looked over it again, narrowing her eyes as though she had X-ray vision. "It smells a bit funny? Like something animal"

"Close, very close" John bent down and helped her open the cardboard folds. "Now close your eyes"

She blinked, taken aback by the question. "Nothing's gonna bite me, are they?"

"No, close your eyes"

Sighing, she did as instructed, shutting her lids and reaching inside the cardboard blindly. Her fingers scraped along the side blindly before she felt soft fur under her hands. "Is it hairy?" she raised the left side of her mouth in confusion. "Like a fur coat?"

"It has hairs, but you can't wear it-" John's sentence was cut short by a loud thought from Sherlock.

"You could wear it as an item of clothing in fact, it's not vast enough to be a coat but it may stretch to a stole or a hat. Of course altering it to fabric would be challenging due to your slightly squeamish nature around fresh organs-"

"It licked me!" she cried, her eyes snapping open to look down at the tiny puppy who was trying to nibble at the skin of her hand. It was a very eager fluffy white Scottish terrier, looking up at her with doe full brown eyes. "You got me a dog!" she scooped the animal up into her arms, looking at her two best friends in unrestricted delight .

"Happy birthday!" John laughed, reaching forward to give her a quick hug.

"If you were set on that coat we can sort it out" Sherlock drew a line across his throat morbidly.

"Shut up! You better keep away from _my_ dog" Tori joked dryly, focussing back on the puppy, scratching the hair behind its ear.

"So what are you going to name him?" John asked, petting the white fur affectionately.

"I don't know. I used to always dream of having a dog, a little one like this, 'Ice berg' that's what they were going to be called but I don't think he suits it"

"I was thinking Gladstone was an appropriate name for a pet" Sherlock commented, taking a seat on the sofa lazily.

"I'm not naming my dog after something that sounds like a lord from the 18th century" she snorted, letting the still unnamed animal lick her face. "Um…Snowy?...Spot?...Lucky? No that's way to cheesy, naming your dog after yourself…Oh! I've found it. Jock!"

"Sorry?" John asked as though he'd misheard her.

"Jock. Wee Jock. From that old Scottish T.V show, they had a dog just like this one" she exclaimed, looking between both men's confused faces. "Oh come on! Tell me you've heard of Hamish Macbeth! It was massive in the 90's, I used to watch it all the time when I couldn't sleep" Her two friends were still silent. "Okay, tonight, 6 o'clock, I'll fish out the box set and educate you on Robert Carlyle's way of solving murders"

They watched in a quiet confusion as she led the dog out the flat and down the hall to take 'Wee Jock' out on his first walk.

_A.N_

_Well now I myself am going to watch Hamish Macbeth, it's a brilliant show set in a town I had the privilege to visit once. If you ever have the chance,__ go watch it, it's not as intellectual as Sherlock and you may need to understand the Scottish accent first but it is truly brilliant. _


	8. Knives

"Bloody hell!" John raced up the stairs as he heard gunshots being fired. "What are you doing?" He yelled at Sherlock who was reloading the gun, His gun.

"Oh just practise" he cocked the gun again and continued shooting.

"Hi John" Tori popped up from behind him, carrying a large amount of knives in her hands.

"Oh My God!" He slammed his hand to his head as she began throwing the knife's into the holes made by Sherlock. "What did I tell you about gun?s"

"Not to teach Tori how to use one" the detective shrugged. "I'm not, she's practising her aim"

"That's...oh why do I bother!" He took the remaining knives of the girl. "Why do you even have my gun?"

"Mary doesn't like it being in the house" She answered, pulling her knees up to her chin as she sat in her favoured armchair. John scowled as he ripped the gun out of Sherlock's grasp. Tori had developed a slightly annoying habit of answering questions that weren't meant for her.

"Right, new rule" He picked up a pen and scrawled quickly on the list of do's and don'ts on the fridge. "Sherlock is not to use guns with Tori in the house. And Tori is not to throw knives in the house"

"Happy now?" Sherlock asked from where he was lying on the couch.

"No, this is typical of..." John was cut off by a little cry from Tori.

"OW" she held up her left hand that was bleeding heavily. For Tori, what happened next, went by in a blur of Sherlock rushing to get the first aid box and John crouching down beside her, telling her it was all right.  
>A doctor would say she was in shock, and well they did. She'd been in shock before, but that was mental shock. This was physical, she couldn't really feel the pain which made it worse. You know the saying about if you think you're insane then you must have enough sanity left to recognise that you're insane? So you're can't be completely insane. Therefore if you can feel the pain, you must be alive enough to still feel. So not feeling any pain was a little bit terrifying.<br>"There you go" John finished bandaging her hand and lifted it in front of her so she could see.

"I've got a boxing glove for a hand" She joked faintly, turning the comically large, gauze covered hand.

"You were just feeling faint" he smiled at her before turning to look at Sherlock, who was watching from the other side of the room. "When was the last time she ate?"

He seemed to take a while to notice he'd been asked a question "Oh...I think it was Tuesday"

"No wonder, it's Friday!" John shouted but stopped when he saw Tori wince. "Sorry I get worried"

"T's okay, you're just looking out for us" she sunk back in the chair and rested her head on his shoulder. "You'll be a good Dad" He smiled and moved slowly away from her.

_A.N  
>Well that was another short one, I haven't missed them.<br>This is probably the second to last one if I can't write up some of the ones I keep off the computer.  
>Anyway, until next time.<br>If life gives you lemons, tape them to the captain's hat_

_Love Rosie_


End file.
